


How the Trolls Tried to Steal Christmas

by needleyecandy



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Cockblocking, Goats, Icelandic Mythology, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Thor and Loki try to be responsible, Trolls, this story is extremely silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needleyecandy/pseuds/needleyecandy
Summary: Yuletide is full of dangers for the unwary... fortunately, Frigga knows how to protect her family. Her sons must be good, they must have new clothes for Christmas, and they must never, ever say the t word lest they be summoned. For many years she has kept her boys snug and safe.This year, Thor has a slip of the tongue.





	1. Children Must Never Say That

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to warn you right now that this has plot holes you could drive a truck through, but since most of the things done by these trolls in the older mythology seems like they could have been prevented by a chair shoved against the door, that's just how it's gotta be. If that's something that will bother you, turn back now. If not, I hope you have as much fun reading this as I have in the writing.

**~~~~~~~~**

**Prologue**

**~~~~~~~~**

Frigga lived with her two growing sons in the hills above Ábær. Thor was loud and bold, and Loki was quiet and thoughtful, and the two of them together balanced one another and she was grateful, for a woman could have no better boys. Their family was rich in love, which is fortunate, for by every lesser measure they were very poor indeed. They lived in a tiny cottage that clung to the edge of the hillside and next to it was a tiny barn that held six goats. Their tiny farm was covered in rocks so that each spring when Thor went out to pull the plow, Loki would walk before him, gathering the rocks and flinging them aside that the plow-blades not be blunted. The goats grazed on the rocky hillside, and they farmed their little patch, and while they did not have much Frigga made sure they always had enough to eat and fresh milk to drink. The little bit that was left was taken to market to trade, and so, over the years, they managed to get by.

There was one thing alone for which they could not trade: new clothes. Most of their garments were secondhand, castoffs from the wealthy villagers that they accepted with grateful smiles, but the boys needed new clothes for Yule. It was therefore her custom to go into the village in Gormánuðr and work until she earned enough to buy them what they would need. So she had done every year since Thor's birth, taking him on her back. Two years later he walked beside her while she carried Loki. Their neighbor tended the goats in return for the milk. When Thor turned twelve she began to leave the boys behind.

**~~~~~~~~**

**Chapter 1**

**~~~~~~~~**

Thor had been up at dawn to see to the goats, tramping down the new layer of snow with determined stomps of his feet. They had been glad to see him as always, dancing about the barn and calling the moment they heard the rust-on-rust rasping of the bar being raised.

"You lot are lucky we had a good summer, or you'd be running low on your hay already," he told them as he climbed the ladder to the mow.

They clustered at the door, staring up at him in the hope that he would change his mind and take them out to pasture.

"You'd be glad of it until you realized you couldn't find the grazing for the snow. Remember last week, when I let you out to see?"

They did not. He picked up the fork and tossed down some hay. They scampered over, the younger ones springing like toys, and blithely ignored him as he let himself out.

"Is it any better today?" asked their mother as he came in, rising to her tiptoes to peer over his shoulder.

He shook his head. "Worse, if anything."

"Well, we must keep hoping," she said, her voice bright. Haustmánuðr had ended two days before, and though she hid it well, Thor knew she feared that if she did not get to the village soon, she would not return with their new clothes in time.

Loki climbed down the ladder from their tiny attic bedroom, yawning and stretching as he came. "Is breakfast ready?" he asked.

"Ready and eaten, our shares," said their mother.

"I don't see why you bother being early, Thor. There's nothing to do until this blizzard leaves."

"There's goats to be milked, and it's your turn to muck the barn. I already fed them."

Their mother stood and rumpled Loki's hair. "The sooner that's done, the sooner you shall have your breakfast." She turned towards her working corner where she had been passing her days spinning.

"Yes, mother," he sighed. He put on his coat and hat and went outside, opening the door as little as need be. A blast of snow poured in all the same and Thor hurried to put the rug back up against the gap at the bottom.

"I can't believe you're leaving me alone with him for a whole month. Can't you take one of us, to make sure I won't kill him during your absence? I don't care which one. He's turning into such a little troll, and-"

" _You shut your mouth this instant, Thor Friggajarson!_ " she gasped. "You know very well that children must never, ever say that word."

He turned white. "I'm sorry. It just came out."

" _Never_ say it. Bad things happen to children who say that."

"I know. I'm sorry!"

She softened. "Don't be sorry, just remember. Promise me you won't say it again."

"Yes, mother. I promise. But won't you tell me why?"

She shook her head, lips pursed tight. "To speak of them is to risk summoning them. I will tell you when you are grown and safe. Now be a good lad and get your brother's porridge ready. He'll want something hot by the time he returns."

Thor knew better than to grumble to himself as he did as he was told. He had already been forbidden from talking to their neighbors, the only other people in walking distance, after the time many years ago - he was so small he still clung to his mother's skirts, he remembered – when he had asked about the meaning of the unfamiliar word they had used. _Monsters,_ she had said. _Monsters that are summoned when children say their name._

Loki's askur was sitting at his place at their little table. Thor picked it up and went over to the fire where the porridge waited in its hot iron pot. Only enough remained for Loki's breakfast, and Thor put it in Loki's bowl in two great dollops. A pinch of sugar was crumbled onto the bits that remained in the pot and he covered it with the heavy lid so that the sugar might toast into caramel.

To Loki's share Thor added a thick layer of skyr and another pinch of sugar before he closed the lid to keep it warm. Loki's chores that morning took far longer than Thor's, and by the time he returned his face was red and pinched with cold and he seemed to carry the very scent of winter upon him.

"Eat your breakfast," Thor said roughly.

*

It was a rare event that their mother was ever wrong about anything but she was wrong about this: the blizzard did not end 'any day now.' It lasted right through Gormánuðr, when she was usually returning home, and into the middle of Ýlir. By the time the path to the village was walkable, she was a full fifty-one days late in leaving their snug little house.


	2. Stekkjarstaur

The first day she was gone they spent in near silence until the evening began to lower, when Loki tried to make conversation. "I was starting to think she wasn't going to be able to leave at all."

Thor gave a crisp nod. "So was I."

"Does it seem strange, though? It's kind of her to want to give us new clothes for Yule, but this is so late she risks not being home for the celebration."

"I guess she won't let herself break the tradition."

Thor was never this terse when their mother was home. Loki tried again. "Where do you think it comes from?"

Thor shrugged and Loki gave up.

"Oh. Well, I suppose we had best start cooking our meal."

Thor got up and put another log on the fire. Kisulóra rose from her mat just long enough to rub around his ankles and reward him with her soft purr. Loki sat still, watching him. His brother was becoming distinctly well-formed, a fact even his long, loose clothes - you'll get more wear out of them as you grow, said their mother - did nothing to hide. Indeed, the fabric seemed not to hang but to swirl and cling as he moved, displaying thick arms and powerful thighs to perfection, and _oh_ Loki could have stared forever. Instead he stood up. "I'll chop the carrots."

"I can do the food. You go see to the goats while it is still light."

Loki opened his mouth to reply, looked at his brother's rigid form, and said nothing. Thor's anger had seemed to begin right when Loki began to look at him and each day he grew more sure that Thor had noticed and hated him for it.

The goats, at least, were happy to see him, frolicking and springing for joy as he slipped in the door with his candle raised safely out of their reach. He stayed until he could stay no longer.

They ate their dinner with no noise but that of crunching vegetables and flickering flames. Their askurs they put under their chairs for Kisulóra to clean when she decided to rise from her cozy bed.

"Leave the leftovers in the pot," Thor said. "We'll eat them for tomorrow's lunch."

"But the porridge crust?" Loki loved that, all crisp and sweet with browned sugar. It was their mother's habit to give the larger share to whichever boy had behaved best that day – and so, usually, they had equal shares – but with Thor in charge, and angry at him, though he knew not why, he did not know how it would be divided.

"Take what you want."

Thor's words and his brusqueness were so at odds Loki thought he must have misheard him. "What?"

"Take what you want. I'll finish after."

"Thank you," Loki said almost shyly. "Would you care to lick the spoon?"

Thor took it and began to lick it clean with long strokes of his tongue. Loki watched and tried to pretend his head didn't swim. He gave Thor half the pot-crust.

He had not meant to speak but the words slipped over his tongue like quicksilver. "I'm sorry I've made you hate me," he whispered.

"What? Loki, no, I don't-"

"Yes, you do. You won't talk to me, you won't look at me, and I know why, and I'm sorry. I can't help it."

The confusion in Thor's voice was the loveliest thing Loki had ever heard. "It's not _your_ fault you look how you do. Surely you understand that. If I cannot control my thoughts, the fault is mine alone."

"I think perhaps we are thinking of different things," Loki said slowly.

They spoke together, Loki asking, "you are not angry that I have been... admiring you?" just as Thor asked, "You are not sorry for tempting me?"

"No," Loki said, laughing. He raised his face to his brother. "You find me tempting?"

"Almost irresistibly. It was easier with mother here to distract me. I have been so afraid that once she left it would be too hard to hide my feelings. But you. You find me admirable?"

"Very much so."

Having grown up on a farm they had never been ignorant of the basic realities of life – the goats were as enthusiastic in the realm of reproduction as in every other – and what could not be learned from watching had been learned from their mother. _What matters is that all are not only willing but eager,_ she had told them while they squirmed in their chairs and wished they could run away outdoors. _There is no shame in going at whatever pace you need, whether that is slow or fast. Why, I had only known Loki's father two hours before we-_ -and at that both boys had jumped up and fled with their hands over their ears, her laughter rippling after them.

"Do you want to go slowly?" Thor asked.

"No. Definitely not. Let's go to bed."

The attic was snug from the fire's heat rising into the rafters and drifting into their open-walled room. He and Thor had a bed on one side and their mother's bed was on the other, and they tumbled into theirs as fas as they could move, blankets shoved hastily aside.

Loki took hold of the hem of Thor's tunic. "May I?"

"Oh, yes."

Loki's only regret was that in their haste they had no brought up no candle, for the small window here did not admit much light and he would have loved to see everything he touched, but there was the morrow, and the morrow, and two whole weeks to themselves in which they would light the attic bright as day. He was straddling Thor's waist, their hands clasped together, as he kissed his way down Thor's bare chest, arms stretching up as he passed Thor's breastbone.

"Wait, Loki. What's that noise?" Thor asked, looking towards the window.

He swore under his breath. "I'm dressed, I'll check. You stay _right_ there." Loki hurried down the stairs, pulling his boots on and scurrying through the narrowest possible gap in the door. He was at the edge of the goat pen when he saw it. It was a huge, galumping, thing, the fading sunlight gleaming on the trails of drool spilling from its twisted mouth. Loki's blood turned to ice. "Thor! It's a monster!" He picked up the first thing to hand – a fist-sized rock with a nice sharp edge – and flung it at the creature, who grunted and began to shuffle deeper into the pen. It moved awkwardly, as though limping on both legs at once.

Thor's voice was muffled by the shutter. "Come inside to safety, Loki! I'll drive it off!"

"No, he's trying to bother the herd, I need to protect them-" he called, kneeling and scanning the ground around him in search of more stones. He had found and thrown two more when Thor came bursting out of the house, a blanket tied about his waist and a hammer in his hand.

Thor stormed down the path and right past Loki. "You think you'll bother my goats, do you? I'll show you what happens when you bother _my_ goats. Take that! And _that!_ "

Grunts turned into squeals and Loki watched in awe as Thor drove it right out of the pen and up the side of the hill. When they were out of sight, he got the goats into the barn. Usually they preferred to remain outside unless the weather were particularly cold, but after nearly being eaten, they seemed impatient with how long it took him to open the door.


	3. Giljagaur

Loki followed the goats towards the barn. "I'm going to give them a little hay. They're not very bright, it might make them forget all about this. If they stay frightened I fear their milk will curdle. You go on inside and sit by the fire before you lose a toe."

Leaving Loki alone outside was the last thing Thor wanted to do, but he had done a good job of driving the troll away, he felt, and Loki was not joking about his toes. They had gone from cold to numb within a few steps down the path, and from numb they had turned into screaming points of pain. He nodded. "Hurry."

"You, too. Go," Loki called over his shoulder.

Now that the surge of anger was not heating his blood he could barely walk for the cold, and he hustled back to the house with an awkward shuffle. He drew a chair to the fire and had meant to fetch a log to build it up, but once he was near its heat he couldn't make himself back away. And so he was still sitting there bent forwards towards the banked fire when Loki came back in.

"Thor, you need more wood, you know it," Loki scolded.

"I know, I couldn't-"

"It's all right, I've got it." Loki tossed on few small pieces, good for a fast boost in warmth. He looked down at Thor's feet as he leaned back. "Your toes are as red as the flames." He straightened and before Thor knew it he was scurrying up the ladder. A minute later cloth began to pour down over the rail.

"Loki, what are you doing?" Thor called.

"You need to get bundled up."

"But you had just gotten me naked."

The stream stopped and Loki's head appeared. "Which is why I intend to make us a bed before the fire."

Thor sat still as Loki bustled about around him, folding a fat pile of blankets into a narrow mattress and draping it loosely with the rest. There was a clattering behind him and then Loki was beside him with a pot of wine, a few spices floating on the top. "I'll have this hot as soon as I can."

"I know."

Loki sat on the floor beside him, leaning against his leg. Thor stroked his hair and were it not for his lingering concern for his toes he felt he would have been perfectly content. Nor was it long before Loki was pouring them two huge cups and urging Thor to drink deeply. The warm spices and warmer wine joined with the fire to finally send some heat back into his bones, and by the end of their second cup he was ready for bed.

Alas! No sooner did he lie down than he fell asleep.

*

Their makeshift bed was snug and he slept deeply, all through the night, Loki pressed up tight against his side. He made a funny little _hmm_ noise each time he exhaled and Thor woke up already smiling at the sound.

"Loki, wake up. We must see to the goats."

"Mmf."

"Loki... the sooner we begin, the sooner we can eat and enjoy ourselves."

"All right," Loki grumbled. He threw back the blankets and Thor gasped at the shock of cold air on his bare skin. "I'll start the water for the porridge. You had best dress."

Thor nodded and climbed the ladder as quickly as he could. When he returned Loki had the pot on and was measuring out the grain. "I brought your clothes down."

"Thank you." He set down the cup and began to hurriedly change into his heavy layers of wool.

"If you dress quickly, I will make breakfast while you feed them. I'll do the milking and mucking."

"I can dress quickly," Loki said from inside his tunic. His head popped out. "Do you think that... _that_ will be back?"

Thor sighed. "I think it's a you-know-what. And I don't think it will come back, I chased it pretty far."

"Why would a you-know-what be here?" Loki gasped.

Thor made an apologetic face. "I called you one to mother. But you really were being awful to me, and I didn't understand."

Loki looked crestfallen. "You called me one of _those_. You summoned it by calling me one."

"I'm sorry. If you weren't being one, though..."

Loki pulled on the rest of his clothes in silence and stomped out. His mood seemed to have improved by the time he returned, no doubt due largely to the amount of sausage slices Thor had put in the lid of his askur. They were quiet as they ate their meal, too, but it was a peaceable silence, one where their knees leaning together under the table saying all that needed to be said.

"The fire was nice, but our bed is much softer," Loki said, looking over at the pile of abandoned blankets.

"It is."

"I'll take those things up while you do your barn work, and then...?"

Thor grinned. "I'll go as fast as I can."

*

At least they were both still dressed when they heard it this time. That was really their one saving grace. Thor charged back out, Loki running after. They could see it better now, the full daylight revealing the two peg-legs that were the reason it moved as it did. Thor chased it with his hammer while Loki set pebble after pebble from his pouch into his slingshot and sent them soaring towards the... the _troll_. No point hiding from the word now that they knew it would be returning either way.

They ran and ran, well past the limits of their farm, up into the mountains, before they were satisfied.

"Do you think it will come every day forever?" Loki asked.

"I don't think so," Thor answered.

Loki heaved a deep sigh, his breath freezing at once in the icen air. "That's good."

"Mother only seems worried about them in relation to children. I expect it will stop when you reach manhood."

"But I'm only fourteen!"

"I will help you gather pebbles for your slingshot," Thor offered.

Loki's snarl broke off with a gasp. "Did you see that?"

"The dark thing by the barn?"

"Yes."

Thor took off running, as fast as his legs would carry him.

He got there just in time to hear the wood-on-metal squeak of the milk pail handle. His sides were heaving and his lungs burning as he flung himself through the doorway to find a hideous troll holding the pail up high, just about to pour the milk straight into its mouth.

"Get out of here!" Thor panted, raising his hammer.

The troll surveyed him, taking in how he was leaning forwards with one hand on his knee to support himself in his near-exhaustion, but how he still held his weapon high and strong, and decided that retreat was in order. It set the pail down remarkably neatly, Thor thought.

Loki arrived in time to see it scurrying away towards the gully behind the ridge. He shot a stone and heard its sharp cry as it was struck.

" _Two_? Thor, what have you done to us?"

"Perhaps we had better discuss this later. Look," Thor said, pointing. There was the first one, coming back down the mountain.

"That old clod," Loki grumbled.

They set off after it again and returned just in time to see a filthy hat and a set of rheumy eyes peeping up from the side of the gully, checking to see whether it was safe to make another attempt upon the milk.


	4. Stúfur

"We need to figure out a better way to deal with this situation," Thor said between kisses.

 "I know. This would be so much better indoors and naked." _And warm_ went without saying. Much as Loki still liked kissing it was a lot better when they could feel their lips.

 "Mmm. I'll take what I can get."

They had fallen asleep before their heads had even hit the pillows last night and while they had fooled around for a few minutes in the morning, the goats could only wait so long, and they needed to eat before the trolls returned. Breakfast had been a hurried affair but Thor had promised Loki the whole pan of sweet crust and that had done much to mollify him.

"We need to figure out what we're going to do about our other chores, though," Loki pointed out.

"We're doing the most important."

"But if we run out of skyr we will have to go beg for starter and who is to do that if we cannot even find time to leave the field?"

"That is true. And we really must make the sausages soon if they are to be well-smoked before mother returns."

"I don't know how in the world it is to be managed. Your turn," Loki sighed.

Thor glanced over his shoulder to find The Clod – the name they had agreed to call the first troll, both for his resemblance to a clod of earth and his erratic, plodding gait – climbing the fence into the pasture. He picked up his hammer and charged.

At least he didn't have to hide how he watched his brother anymore, Loki thought. That did a lot to make this more bearable. He got to relax against the fence and enjoy the sight of Thor loping up the hillside, his long hair streaming behind him, the tips lost in clouds of frozen breath. He might be simply a boy defending his family's little herd, but to Loki he looked like a great warrior of legend.

When Thor returned his face was flushed with exertion as well as cold and Loki had never seen a diamond but he was sure they could not shine more brightly than Thor's eyes.

"Now, where were we?" Thor asked, stepping close.

Loki tilted up his face. "I believe we were right about-"

"Your turn," Thor said.

Loki swore and pulled his slingshot from his belt. By the time he had turned around Gully-Gawker was over the ridge and running for the barn. Loki set his pebbles off as fast as he could, but he had far enough to run that most fell short. The troll was nearly to the barn door when one pebble – a nice sharp one – caught him right on the ear. With a squeal he turned and ran back for the safety of the gully.

The ground was far too cold to sit, so for rest they leaned against each other’s backs as they ate their lunches, hunks of near-black bread with just enough cheese to salt it.

“They haven’t come in a long time,” Thor said as they ate.

“Too long. It makes me suspicious.”

“Me too. You don’t think they’re colluding, do you?”

Loki shrugged, his coat catching on Thor’s and making his tunic rub agreeably against his winter-itching back. “I don’t suppose it matters. There’s two of them and two of us.”

“You’re right. I just like watching you fighting,” Thor sighed.

Loki smiled into his bread.

It turned out Thor was right: the trolls were colluding. That would have been fine were Loki also right, but he was not. Thor was in the high pasture, chasing the clod in circles while Loki, nearer the house, pursued the Gawper back towards the gully, when Thor cried out.

“Loki, look behind you!”

Loki skidded to a halt, reloading his shot as he spun on his heel to find… nothing.

“Lower! By the house!”

He raised his eyes, squinting against the lowering sun, to see a low figure – it couldn’t have reached past his knees, he was sure – slinking away from the house, a pot in its hands and a sly grin on its face. “Hai! That’s my crust!”

The troll’s grin widened and it began to run, squat legs pumping frantically.

“That’s mother’s favorite pot, too!” Thor yelled.

Loki set off in hot pursuit and he was catching up quickly until the troll flung the heavy lid back and caught him in the shin. He grabbed his leg, hopping about on one foot.

“It is broken?” Thor called, the worry sharp in his voice.

“I don’t think so. The pain is already beginning to ease.”

Another minute and he could run again. The troll had gotten to the far hills and was perched on a little rock with the pot on its lap, its gnarled and filthy fingers picking out bits of the sweet crispy crust and popping them into its grinning mouth. When Loki got close it abandoned the pot and fled.

After seeing the troll’s hands he was even more glad of his heavy gloves, protecting him from touching where the troll's disgusting fingers had been. He picked it up and trudged back to the house.

Thor had driven the Clod back and was waiting for him.

“None for either of us tonight,” Loki sighed.

“Then we’ll have to have something else sweet tonight instead,” Thor promised. He put his fingers under Loki’s chin and tilted his face up for a kiss.

“We need to figure out how to deal with this. How can the two of us stop the three of them?” Loki fretted when they broke apart.

“I was thinking of that. I think we must work as fast as we can, building a new fence through the pasture so that the goats can still get their exercise but keep them near enough the barn that one of us can guard both, while the other one protects the house.”

Loki nodded. “I’ll start fetching from the woodpile if you do the building.”

“I will. And we have another problem to consider. If there were two yesterday and three today…”

“…there may be four tomorrow.”


	5. Þvörusleikir

Despite their best intentions, they got effectively no work done until after dark, when the trolls stopped pestering them. The sky was almost completely cloudless, a welcome respite from the long storm, and the full moon gave more than enough light for them to build a serviceable fence before bone-deep exhaustion forced them to bed without their suppers.

"Oh, my hands," Loki moaned when he woke. "I'm covered in splinters."

"And I can barely move my arms," groaned Thor.

Getting down the ladder resulted in a chorus of whimpers and long-suffering sighs.

“Perhaps we should eat quickly and then see to the goats once we have taken our stations,” Loki suggested.

“I agree. We woke so early, they won’t even notice.”

“We woke _early?_ ” Loki demanded, horrified.

Thor felt like he hadn’t laughed in days. “Hunger will do that.”

“Yes. I suppose you are right.” The glumness in Loki’s voice made him laugh again as he set about fixing their food.

*

“I am determined that this shall be yours tonight,” Thor said as he sugared the pot scrapings. “You will not be robbed two days in a row, I forbid it.”

“Thank you. Can you pull my splinters? They hurt terribly.”

“Of course.” Thor got up and rummaged through their mother’s sewing things to find the felt book where she kept her needles. He sat back down and drew one of Loki’s hands into his lap. He felt terribly clumsy compared to her, but Loki bore it well, sitting rigidly still and silent until Thor was done. When he finished the skin was a mess of tiny wounds. "I'm sorry. That's the best I could do.”

“Don't worry. I'm sure they will be better tomorrow. Could you rub them with some ointment?”

“Yes, of course,” Thor said, rising to fetch it. “ Would you prefer to guard inside or outside today?”

“You should pick.”

“I will go outdoors. I don’t like you getting cold, you're too thin. I would worry about you catching a chill if I'm not there to warm you. And your gloves would pain you, I know it."

Thor suppressed a grin at the struggle dancing over Loki's features. Loki got irritated at being called thin - for men were not supposed to be so, though Thor was sure his brother had plenty of time to broaden into a strong lean build before reaching manhood - but as it likewise meant staying in the warmth of the cottage and Thor giving him all the sweet crispy porridge bits, he was not wholly inclined to argue.

"You must wear my hat beneath your own," Loki said, sweet as his favorite treats.

"Do you think you might be able to start more skyr if I pour the milk into the vat? We're getting so low."

"We are? Yes, of course I will." Not that Thor had doubted; Loki had just the night before told Thor how much he loved watching him eat it.

_You always take these great heaping bites, and when it hits your tongue you close your eyes and get this look on your face that almost makes me envy your spoon,_ Loki had said, running his hand up the inside of Thor's leg as he spoke.

_And when I have done to you as I wish, it shall be the spoon that is all full of envy,_ Thor had answered.

*

Thor felt more confident in his ability to guard the goats by himself now that they had reduced the size of the pen. Oh, he still was in near-constant pursuit of one troll or the other, but he didn't feel the need to chase the Clod quite so far, which in turn reduced Gully-Gawper's chances to make a raid on the barn. He would have felt a good deal better about their situation were it not for the amount of crashing and shouting and door-slamming he heard from the house. All day he kept one ear turned to the goats – who had learned first that clustering behind Thor when the Clod appeared was a good idea, before they discovered that their cries would bring him running to their aid without them having to make any particular effort on their own – and the other for the sound of Loki calling for help, but it did not come, so he remained at his post until nightfall.

“How was your day? I watched the door when I could, but he never seemed to be about when I was free to look over,” Thor asked when he limped (for by now his poor feet were quite terribly sore) into the house.

“I hope you did not get any more to contend with today, for I did,” Loki sighed.

“What did he do?”

“Every time I chased the stubby pot-thief away, a skinny one would sneak inside. I kept finding him licking the spoons, Thor, it was disgusting. Nor could I chase them far, for my fingers were too sore to use my slingshot. All I could do was run after them and kick them, so that they returned almost as quickly as I did.”

“I hate to ask…”

“I had no chance to start the skyr. I meant to, but I hardly had time to eat my lunch. I think it took me two hours to finish my piece of bread. I understand the one wanting to eat the crust, but is it not strange that the other would want the spoons in place of real food? He went right past the table where my meal sat, and the pot over the fire is still half-full of last night’s stew. All he wanted was to lick the spoons even though he was so thin that when he turned sideways I could barely see him but for his lumpy nose.”

Thor nodded. “Strange indeed, but better for us, I suppose. I will fix our dinners if you do the skyr now.”

“Yes, of course.”

It would have been a good plan if only Loki’s hands weren’t in such a state. He bit his lip, stifling his whimpers of pain as he used both hands to force the spoon through the thick blob of skyr at the bottom of the milk-filled vat.

“Put that down, love,” Thor said gently. “I will see to it after we have eaten.”

Loki gave him a grateful smile as he put it on its rest and took his chair. When Thor turned back it was to find him with his head on the table, fast asleep.


	6. Pottaskefill

The next day Loki's hands were beginning to heal. It proved particularly fortunate because their constantly growing exhaustion made them wake far later than they had intended. Indeed, it was only the anxious bleating of the goats that roused them at all.

"How will we ever get to have sex if we can't even find time for kisses?" Loki grumbled as Thor flew down the ladder in his nightclothes.

"We'll figure something out, I promise," Thor called up.

Loki dressed himself and gathered up Thor's clothes before heading down to start their food. When Thor returned he was red everywhere and Loki did the work his brother's frozen hands could not.

"I do not like how cold you are," Loki said. "You remain within today and I will guard the herd."

"But your breakfast-"

"No time," Loki cried as another chorus of bleating summoned him to the barn.

The goats were still inside, and when Loki got there both the Clod and Gully-Gawker were there as well, one in the midst of harassing a goat - Gudrun, Loki's favorite - and the other creeping towards the milk bucket.

"Out, out! Get out, the lot of you," he yelled.

They looked at each other and smirked.

He was quick with his slingshot, but even so it took time to reload and the trolls took full advantage, dancing and weaving about the barn as he sent stone after stone soaring towards their heads. It wasn’t until he caught Clod right between the eyes that he was able to claim the upper hand. Even then it required him crowding into one corner so that he wasn’t blocking the exit, which meant he couldn't draw back on his shot without slamming his elbow into the wall, right on the sensitive part that sent a jolt of nausea shaking through him. Of course he learned this fact the hard way.

At least he'd had his share of practice at kicking trolls until they fled. Once he had sent Gully-Gawker running out the door he was able to brace the door with a piece of wood that had been sitting around for weeks, meant to repair the loose board at the far side of the haymow. He leaned against it with a sigh, wishing he could do nothing but stand there all day. Were the goats not _quite_ so demanding and capricious, he likely would have done so.

Their joy as he shoveled forkful after forkful of hay down to the floor below did much to cheer him for the day that faced him. He sat on the edge of the high platform, legs swinging, content to do nothing but listen to the soft noises of their jaws working the sweet grass until they were done eating.

Those goats to be milked first made no secret of their impatience to be outside in their pen. "You're just going to have to wait," he told them. "I can't keep you safe out there while I'm busy in here."

"Baaa," they answered.

"Are all goats so stupid?"

"Baaa."

"Yes. I thought so."

Their discontent only worsened when he saw to the mucking. The task was unpleasant enough at the best of times, but having to perform it with scabbed hands, surrounded by goats who had decided that the best way to stave off boredom was to eat Loki's clothing while he wore it - not to mention the fact that he was a teenage boy and more accustomed to two breakfasts than none - made him almost grateful to open the door and follow the goats as they scampered blithely towards danger.

The sun was as near to overhead as it ever got in winter when he heard Thor calling him. "What?" he yelled back.

"Come inside, we will trade tasks long enough for you to eat."

They met on the path between house and pasture. "There have been no more outside," Loki said.

"That's good, because there's another inside. This one is trying to take the pot with the leftovers meant for tonight's dinner. He's sneaky, he wears dark gray and blends into the shadows."

"He's not eating them if I eat them first," Loki said grimly. "Has Stubby been coming as well?"

"He has. No pot is safe, Loki."

"I'll be alert. Now go, I see the Clod trying to sneak over the ridge."

Thor stole a quick kiss and Loki stole it back before they split, running towards their temporary stations before the trolls had time to cause trouble. Loki got to the house just in time; all three were in the snug kitchen area, creeping nearer their prizes. Spoon-Licker was at the rear. Loki screwed up his courage, snuck up behind them, and boxed his ears. He let out a piercing scream which made the other two jump and set off running for the door, Spoon-Licker following close on their heels.

"And stay out!" Loki shouted after them.

 

They stayed out for all of ten minutes.


	7. Askasleikir

"Loki... I have to say something, and you're not going to like it." 

"I already know. We're never going to have sex," Loki said miserably.

"Don't say that. _Never_ say that," Thor told him.

"But we barely even have time to kiss, and it's only going to get worse. Forever."

"Not forever, I promise. I bet once mother comes back, she'll scare them off."

"Well, it's not like we can have sex with her in the same room, so I don't see how that helps."

"No, but there's the haymow, and there's the late Mörsugur thaw..."

"All right," Loki said, mollified. "I won't despair just yet. What did you want to tell me?"

"It's the sausages. If we don't make them soon, the meat will go bad, and I don't know about you but I'm not going to be the one to tell her when she gets home."

"How can we possibly make sausages while we're busy fighting the trolls?"

"What if we bring the goats into the kitchen? Then one of us can make the sausages while the other one does the fighting.”

"Except for the one in the barn. We can't bring the milk inside without it spoiling."

"Drat, you're right... would you mind if we made a huge batch of skyr and had no milk to drink? I know you like it, but I don't know what else to do."

"I suppose we have no choice," Loki sighed.

"I'm sorry. I promise you must drink all you wish when they are milked tomorrow. I will give you my full share."

Loki nodded. "All right."

They had not counted on the difficulty of getting six lively goats into a tiny house when all they wish for in life is to frolic in the open fields, to eat the frozen grass, and to make trouble. Gudrun, who was supposed to be Loki's favorite, managed to squirm her way past him a full five times on the way between the barn and the house, and she escaped three more times when they opened the door to urge in another. 

All in all, it took them nearly an hour to convince the obstreperous creatures inside. Loki left Thor to guard them and went out to muck the barn and carry back a bundle of hay.

"Thank you. You never offer to do the mucking," Thor said, pleased. It was shows of maturity just like this that had the potential to persuade their mother that they were old enough to go on overnight hunting trips alone. He was already imagining his lovely brother nude atop the heavy outdoor blankets when Loki answered.

"You have three trolls to stop," he said, and slipped out the door before Thor could ask for help.

It wouldn't have been so bad if it had just been the kitchen trolls, for they could be fought as a group; instead he had to face Spoon-Licker, over by the sink; the Clod, who was walking with outstretched arms, herding the goats into a corner (and doing it far more effectively than either Thor or Loki had managed); and Gully-Gawker, in the corner opposite, creeping towards the vat of milk. 

He picked up his hammer and somehow drove them out before they could cause any mischief. "Aaaaugh!" he shouted to the sky when two goats slipped out as well.

Loki popped his head out of the barn. "Are you all right?"

"It's these dratted animals..."

Loki stood watching until Thor managed to get them back inside, and if Thor didn't know better he might almost have thought his brother was smirking.

It felt like half the day had passed, though it could not have been more than half the hour, when Loki wiggled his way through a barely-cracked door. His cheeks were pink and his eyes bright with the cold and Thor could not resist kissing him back to warmth.

“Mmm, brother, let’s do this all day,” Loki murmured against his lips.

“I would like nothing better. Your lips are as soft as- no, _no,_ NO! Out!” Thor pulled his hammer from his belt loop and managed to catch Pot-Stealer right between the eyes. The troll fell to the ground, dazed, but shook it off and scurried out the door before Thor could line up another good strike.

“They have incredibly hard heads,” Loki noted.

“It’s your turn to get the goats,” Thor said.

By the time Loki got them back in, Thor had had to drive Stubby off _twice_ and Thor was pondering the idea of making him Loki’s sole responsibility, since Loki was the one who was mad for sweet crust. 

“Well, how far along are you with the sausages?” Loki asked brightly when he returned.

“Sausages? I haven’t even had a moment to start the skyr.”

“Oh, I can do that in just a minute. Really, Thor, I don’t know what you were doing with yourself while I was busy in the barn.”

“You don’t-” Thor turned to him to find him alight with mischief. He grabbed Loki’s wrist and pulled him close. “I begin to think I was right, what I said about you to mother.”

“I suppose you will have to kiss it out of me.”

“I suppose I will.”

All the kisses only left Thor hungry for more as he set to work, starting the skyr and grinding the meat while Loki took a turn at defending their home. Thor paused long enough to fix their lunch, which they took turns eating, before he stuffed the casings and hung the sausages to smoke over the low fire. It was past nightfall when he finished, and once the trolls disappeared with the sun Loki took the goats out for a few minutes in their pasture before getting them into the barn with the offer of a second helping of hay.

“At least none of them seem interested in sausage,” Loki said when he came back in.

A thought struck them both at once and their eyes met in horror. “Who came today?” they said as one.

“Maybe there’s no more? Maybe this is all we’re going to get?” Thor suggested.

“And we’re getting better at dealing with them,” Loki answered. “As long as the number holds even I feel like we can learn to deal with it.”

“You’re right. If it weren’t for having to make the sausages, this day would have been almost easy.”

“Shall we celebrate, brother?” Loki asked, grinning.

“I think we must. You are cold. Perhaps we should take our askurs to bed and eat there?”

“Oooh, Thor. I like that idea very much.”

Thor was tired, but not bone-weary, as he had been every previous night they had had to themselves, and as he watched Loki go first up the ladder he began to get hard, thinking of how soon his hands would be all over that pert rump. 

They hurried into their nightclothes, giggling at the thought of how soon they would be removing them again, once Loki was warmed up, and climbed into bed. They sat against the headboard, askurs in their laps, elbows bumping as they scooped up bite after bite of dinner until it was gone.

“Do you think we need to take the askurs downstairs for Kisulóra?” asked Loki. 

“She’s clever. I’m sure she’ll find them under the bed.”

“Yes, I think you’re right.” 

They put down their bowls and turned to one another, the single candle giving just enough light to show their expectant smiles. “Are you warm enough to undress?” Thor asked.

Loki nodded. Thor rose to his hands and knees and moved above him before reaching for the hem of his long shirt. He had it halfway over Loki’s head when their bed seemed to _jump_ straight up in the air and when it fell back to the floor there was a troll standing beside it, an askur in each hand and ribbons of droll running down its chin as it shoved its disgusting, wart-covered tongue into the bowl to lick it out.

"Eeeew!" Thor shouted.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Loki demanded, struggling to free his head.

“A troll took our askurs!” Thor jumped up and chased the troll down the ladder, which it somehow managed despite both hands being full, and it was halfway out the door when he sent his hammer flying. It was the handle that hit, but the force was enough to make it jump and drop the bowls before disappearing out into the night. Thor sighed and picked them up.

Kisulóra was by the fire, looking at him curiously. He put down the bowls and sat beside her, keeping guard, until she had eaten her fill.

“If they start coming at night as well, we’re fucked,” Thor called up.

“That’s the worst of it,” Loki answered miserably. “We _won’t_ be.” 


	8. Hurðaskellir

Loki tried his best to stay awake waiting for Thor to come back to bed. He heard the shouting and the dull thud of wood on skull, followed by the softer sounds of Thor speaking to Kisulóra. At first he forced his eyelids to stay open sometime after the house had fallen into silence, but he was so tired and the bed was so warm, and his full belly made him so content. He decided that he could rest his eyes, just for a moment, and then he would open them and keep them open until Thor returned. He needed only a moment…

When he woke the thin fingers of dawn were creeping around the heavy curtain and Thor was watching him.

“Good morning,” Thor said.

“Morning,” Loki mumbled. I tried to wait for you.”

“It’s all right. You were tired, and Kisulóra took a long time to eat.”

“Only because she knew I wanted her to hurry.”

“She _is_ a cat.”

Loki humphed.

“Now we know what to do, though. If we eat downstairs and give the askurs to her while we sit there and watch, the one from under the bed won’t get what he wants, and we’ll be left to ourselves.”

“Once Kisulóra is done.”

Thor reached over to toy with a dark lock, twisting the curl around his finger. “Is it so bad to sit together before the fire?”

Loki matched Thor’s slow smile. “Perhaps not _so_ bad,” he teased. "Do we have any time right now?"

"I don't think so. The light is getting too bright."

"Then we'll just have to make the day pass as fast as we can."

Other than the need to wash their askurs out with boiling water several times before they could bear to eat from them, after the _licking_ they had taken the night before, the morning passed with relative peace. Loki stayed inside again while Thor went out to spend his day with the goats. Loki was certain that the next troll to come would be another outdoor pest; after all, they now had four bothering them in the house and only two outside. It was definitely Thor's turn.

They ate the sweet porridge bits with their lunch, though the sugar hadn't yet gotten that delicious brown crispiness, so that Loki might have a relative bit of peace. It worked; keeping away only Spoon-Licker and Pot-Scraper was not nearly as bad. He fixed their lunch, and he fixed their dinner, and every so often he gave the skyr a stir, and almost before he knew it, dusk had fallen and Thor was coming back inside, a fresh layer of snow twinkling on his hair and lashes and making him look like something from one of their mother's old tales.

While Thor portioned out their food, Loki hurried up the ladder and returned with a heavy blanket upon which to sit before the first to eat and warm themselves and... other things. Better things. Thor's hair was damp with snowmelt and the rich firelight made it shine like those rare stalks of straw that seemed to hold the sun within them. _Like gold_ their mother used to say when he brought them inside, and he believed her, though he had never seen such a thing himself.

"Your hair looks like gold," Loki said now.

"And yours like a raven in winter."

"Your eyes bring back the summer sun."

"And yours the summer grass."

"Your lips the strawberries..."

"Your tongue quick as a silver minnow."

"Just think of all the places it might dart, all slippery and swift," Loki whispered just as Thor leaned forwards to press his lips to Loki's.

Loki smiled to hear how Thor's groan melted into a sigh of pleasure as they kissed.

He couldn’t remember who was the one to urge them to the floor, whether it was he or Thor or some instinct that drew them down as one, but there they were, Loki on his back and Thor half atop him, devouring him with kisses as he reached for the hem of Loki's tunic.

Thor's work-rough hands against Loki's stomach made him shudder. He was familiar enough with seeing to himself, but in all his explorations he had never found this area so sensitive. Nor did it make sense that _rough_ should feel so good but he was panting softly even before Thor reached his nipples.

"Thor!" he gasped at the shock of playful fingers teasing at the peaks.

"Oh, Loki, they're so tiny and sweet... will you be warm enough without your shirt?" Thor asked.

"I _need_ it off. You are setting my skin on fire."

Thor made a low sound in his throat and Loki hardly had time to raise his arms before his shirt was being pulled over them and tossed away. Thor lowered his head and where fingers had been bliss, tongue and lips were ecstasy.

Thor's hand was just slipping into Loki's trousers when a clatter startled them.

"Kisulóra, no!" Loki shouted.

She looked up from where she had just knocked the lid from Thor's askur and blinked at them with huge yellow eyes.

"You'll get that soon enough," Thor scolded as he flung himself across the hearth and knocked the bowl away just before she could take a bite of his dinner.

There was more food in the pot for tomorrow, and it was so tempting to let Kisulóra have her fill while he and Thor ate from the pot, but Loki could not help thinking of years past. Sometimes by late winter, food was so scarce that their mother went hungry that her sons might eat. He could not face that, not if he could help it.

"Maybe we better eat first," Loki said regretfully. "She's just going to keep doing that, now that she's got the idea in her head."

"You're right," Thor sighed.

The one saving grace was that was warm enough by the fire to keep his shirt off even without the heat Thor roused within him, so that he could sit cross-legged with his askur in his lap, his spoon in one hand and the other skimming over himself, teasing Thor mercilessly.

The very second he set his spoon down into the empty bowl Thor grabbed it away and set both down for the cat. She gave her usual show of gratitude – none – and settled down to eat. Thor turned back to Loki with a smile that said he was ready to settle down to something better and within seconds they were continuing from where they had left off.

Thor's fingers slipped back inside Loki's trousers, working their way lower, pausing when they reached a thatch of hair to play with it, making them both ache with impatience. And then he reached lower, lower...

The ladder creaked and they looked up to find Bowl-Licker sneaking down from the loft in search of their askurs.

Loki hissed at the sight. "He's _not_ making me do all that washing again."

"Nor I. The texture of his dried spit..." Thor shuddered.

"Will you chase him away?"

"He'd just come back. Better to wait for her to finish and then show him that they're emptied."

Loki sighed. "All right."

"But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves at all..." Thor leaned over to whisper into Loki's ear, detailing the many ways in which he wished them to touch each other, all the sounds he wanted to draw from Loki's throat... his brother really was very creative.

At last Kisulóra began the surprisingly noisy process of washing her face. Loki and Thor picked up their bowls and showed them to the troll who still stood at the foot of the ladder. His shoulders slumped and with a snort of disgust he left them alone.

"And stay out!" Thor shouted at the closing door.

" _Finally,_ " Loki said.

"Bed. Now," Thor ordered...

Never had they climbed so fast, nor undressed with such haste. Nor did they have patience once they had gotten into bed, warm bodies pressed together beneath the cold sheets, eager hands reaching for each other's cocks. Thor made the most delicious stuttering _ha-ah_ when Loki found his goal, and a mere heartbeat later Loki was gasping as Thor took hold of his cock in turn.

"Mmm, oh, Thor..." Loki murmured as Thor began to stroke.

" _Loki,_ oh, my sweet brother..." breathed Thor.

Downstairs, the door began to slam.


	9. Skyrgámur

It turned out to be impossible to have sex while someone was slamming a door every thirty seconds. They did try, clasping their hands over each other's ears as they embraced, but it left much to be desired. For one, the hollow cups of their palms acted like the seashell that was kept on the mantel – a parting gift from Thor's father, and one that must be handled carefully, for once it was someone's home and therefore worthy of respect – and sounded so much like the sea that Thor half-expected the cry of seagulls. For another, they really couldn't move around very much. They could kiss each other's lips, their eyes and cheeks, down the throat, but no farther. Thor pulled Loki atop him that they might rub their cocks together and perhaps finish that way, more from the fact that this was _real_ than from anything like sufficient stimulation. That might even have worked were it not for the bursts of cold air that billowed about the house each time the door was opened. Even with warm blankets, the body could bear only so much before it rebelled.

"This has never happened to me before, I _swear,_ " Thor said.

"Me either! Really, never ever."

"So you believe me? Promise?"

"Well, I know it's true about myself, so yeah. You promise you believe me too?"

"Promise."

There was some consolation to be found in the knowledge that Loki didn't think he had... _issues_ (unless getting hard almost constantly at the sight of one's brother counted as an issue, but he figured Loki wouldn't really judge him for that). It was cold comfort, though, when only a few minutes before he had been expecting comfort of a particularly warm variety. Warm and wiggly and alive to his touch… Thor spent the night with his pillow over his head in a vain attempt to block out the noise and thinking to himself how very, very much he hated trolls.

*

“Did you get any sleep?” Loki asked in the morning, his words broken by long and dismal yawns.

“I think I dozed some, off and on.”

“Yeah. That’s all I got, too. And it’s just going to get worse.”

“We should probably start thinking about the cooking for Yule. Mother won’t be back until the last minute, and I’m afraid if I’m any tireder I won’t be able to do much of anything.”

“The laufabrauð should be first. It keeps best."

Thor nodded. "Can you-"

"Oh, Thor, I _would,_ you know that. But you're just so much better at it than I am." As Loki was speaking he stretched, letting the blankets slide down to expose his chest. Exhausted as Thor was, it was still impossible not to be captivated by creamy skin, delicate pink nipples and the light dusting of dark hairs he was sure had not been there over the summer.

"If I am to be busy with that, you had best take the pots and spoons when you go out after breakfast. I don't think I can cut the dough while I'm dealing with trolls. They'll be safe enough in the haymow."

Thor could tell very well from his brother's face that he didn't like the thought of having to fight off five trolls all day long. Loki wrestled with himself, deciding whether it would be worse to pass the day without being able to rest his slingshot for a minute altogether, or if that was still better than the tedious work of trimming the bread.

"I'll take them," Loki said at last.

*

Thor had found himself envying his brother – for he hated this task as well, much as he loved to eat the finished bread – but the moment the door shut behind Loki, who was making his way down the barn path by feeling with his feet, for the stack of pots (one with the sugared remains of their breakfast, not, alas, to become crust today; two more with the leftovers that would be added to their lunch and dinner, for even though Stubby kept trying to steal these, it was still easier than preparing a full meal three times a day; and from these stuck out the spoons, which kept catching at Loki's hat and threatening to pull it off his head) in his arms utterly blocked his view, Thor felt an unexpected surge of freedom. There would be no trolls today. _There would be no trolls today._ Just Thor and the dough and the little knife.

It was a lot more work doing this alone than when the family worked together, of course. Their mother had always impressed upon them the importance of working quickly, before the dough could dry out, but there was only so much he could do when he needed to be rolling and trimming and frying all at once. It seemed best, therefore, to work in many small batches, making just enough dough that he could cut and fry just a few pieces of bread at a time.

Even the dull task of trimming proved peaceful after the relentless pace of the past few days, and he found himself lulled by the smooth even rhythm of the knife.

When lunchtime came he made them cups of hot milk and went out to fill their askurs from the pot in the haymow before standing guard while Loki ate.

"How is it going?" Loki asked.

"Terrible," Thor lied. It seemed kindest.

Loki wrinkled his nose. "I can tell when you're lying, Thor," he said.

"Do you want to trade?" He really didn't want to, but it did seem fair.

"Yes. Yes, I believe I would."

"You remember how to do everything?"

"Of course I remember," Loki answered, rolling his eyes. "You're not _that_ much older than me."

"Brat," Thor said fondly. He reached over and ruffled Loki's hair where it hung free below the edge of his hat.

"I am not! Quit it," Loki said, slapping at Thor's hand. He got up and stalked off like an offended crow. Halfway to the house he turned back to stick his tongue out. Maybe at least _some_ of his earlier obnoxiousness wasn't due to trying to hide his feelings.

Thor did feel sorry for Loki when he heard the crashes and shouting emanating from the house that afternoon, testifying that another troll had made its appearance. He didn't feel _that_ sorry, though.

*

The house was warm and fragrant with fresh, crispy bread when Thor returned home that evening, and he took a moment to fill his lungs before turning to Loki, who was assembling their meal like it had personally offended them. "What does this one do?"

"Steals the skyr," Loki said shortly.

Both their moods improved once they had eaten their fill – which meant that Loki wasn't being such a brat and Thor was feeling more forgiving – and they lay together before the fire, kissing lazily, while Kisulóra ate her fill.

Thor did – somehow – manage to fall asleep quickly that night, despite the incessant slamming of the door. He had just enough time to think of the glimpse of his brother that morning before they had dressed, and how easily he had agreed to Loki's wishes once he had seen it. Just enough time to think of that and to wonder if the same trick would work just as well on Loki. The thought carried him to blissful dreams.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few days ago I came across a BBC radio program with an Icelandic author talking about Icelandic Christmas stories. I'd taken the fact that nearly all the Yule Lads go for food was a sign of what life was like for subsistence farmers - it makes sense, right? - but there used to be more of these trolls and it sounds like they just kept the nicer ones for modern retellings, as there used to be one who would rip people's lungs out. [Here's a link if you'd like to listen,](http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b06s75pm) I really enjoyed it and it's only half an hour.

Of course it was a forlorn hope to wish that Thor would not catch on to what Loki had done and try the same trick for himself. His brother was far too clever to have missed it. Loki did not think it so unreasonable to hope that exhaustion might at least slow him down for a second day, though. It did not.

"I would like to be outside today, I think, brother," Thor said, and damn him if he hadn't taken off his nightclothes while Loki was busy swimming towards what passed for consciousness after such a disturbed sleep. He stretched and sighed and the blankets slid down and halfway off, revealing a broad chest and broad shoulders, thick arms and all over him muscles far more developed than any boy of about sixteen had any right to have.

A clever response was demanded. "Ah. Um. I... okay. Yes," he stammered.

Thor's grin was even more smug than when he had come in for dinner last night and Loki had to get it off his face. Unable to think of anything witty to say, he at least remained enough in control of himself to erase that arrogant smirk with a different use of his own tongue.

"Mmm... Loki, if we don't stop soon, I don't think I'll be able to," Thor yawned as Loki's hand slid patiently downward.

"I don't care," Loki told him. He was so close, he could feel the heat emanating from Thor's cock-

"They'll eat all our food."

"Shit," Loki said. No matter how much he wanted to remain here, running his hands over his brother's marvelous form, they were far too poor to sacrifice that much food, and he knew it.

At least the laufabrauð was finished and tucked safely aside awaiting their mother's return and the Yule celebrations. There was still the big roast to be put over the fire, hung nice and high to cook the tough meat to buttery tenderness, but that didn't need to be done just yet.

"So it's really okay with you if I take the outside today? I don't like the thought of you in the cold so much as you have been of late," Thor asked as they finished their last bites of porridge.

Loki did mind. He minded very much. By now nearly all the trolls were of the house: the Clod and Gully-Gawper remained the only two outdoor pests, while the person inside, though able to enjoy the warmth of the fire (which was far from nothing) had to counter Stubby, Spoon-Licker, Pot-Scraper, Bowl-Licker, and now this awful Skyr-Gobbler, all without even the respite of a peaceful night. It was really unfair and Loki would have suggested Thor take the pots out to the barn as Loki had done yesterday - just to be even - but right then Thor yawned and leaned back to fully enjoy his stretch and it made his tunic _really_ cling to those rippling muscles and Loki forgot how to talk.

"Loki?" Thor prompted.

"Guh," Loki answered.

"Thanks!" Thor said, far too cheerfully. "I'd offer to do the washing up, but if I don't get out there soon the milk pail will be stolen and all the milk with it and then there'd be no skyr after this batch is gone."

" _Guh_ ," Loki repeated angrily. It was really unfair that the effect had not worn off yet.

"Have a good morning, brother. I'll be back right at noon to eat my lunch. You'll need to be bundled up and ready to take my guard outdoors."

Loki glared at the door as it closed behind him.

He was _far_ too busy. Not only did he have to protect the pots, the spoons, and the skyr, there were the askurs needing to be cleaned and he had to wash and chop the vegetables to make a pot of stew for their supper, along with heating up yesterday's leftovers for today's lunch. At least the stew could wait for the afternoon. Precisely at midday, Loki was in his coat and hat, ready to run out to the pasture to protect the goats while Thor wolfed down his food. Precisely ten minutes later (far too quickly, to his mind, despite the cold) Thor hailed him from the door and they traded back. Then the askurs needed washing again and he really couldn't put off the stew any longer.

He was busy indeed. He was so busy that had he not heard a noise from above, Loki may not have noticed at all until it was too late.

The newest troll was perched in the rafters, munching a string of sausages and chuckling with glee as he did so.

"Thor! _Thor!_ " Loki shrieked.

He could hear the thunder of Thor's footfalls before the door was flung open. "Loki! What is it?"

Loki didn't bother answering; he had his slingshot out and was shooting pebble after pebble overhead, and Thor's eyes only needed to follow their trajectory to find their target. The pebbles were effectively useless; this troll was quicker than the others, and he was surrounded by sturdy wooden beams behind which to hide himself.

"I'll get him, brother," Thor said grimly. He tucked his hammer into his belt and hurried up the ladder, caught at the nearest supporting beam and pulled himself up.

"But what about the goats?"

"I can't do both!" Thor cried. He crawled among the rafters as fast as he could go, swinging his hammer with menace. He couldn't catch up with the troll, it seemed, but he could keep them both moving so that the troll couldn't stop to eat any more sausages either.

Three and a half hours. That was how long Loki spent running back and forth between the house and the field, driving off trolls from the barn, the pasture, the house, while Thor protected the sausages. He had never been so grateful for nightfall.

"We have to think of something else for tomorrow," he groaned as he closed the door and collapsed upon the rug.

"You could take the pots out to the barn again," Thor suggested.

Loki pulled off a shoe and sock to reveal one of the largest blisters either of them had ever seen. "I'm not sure I can. I'm not sure I'll even be able to _walk_."


	11. Gluggagægir

Thor winced at the sight of his poor brother’s foot, all red and blistered, and looking up at his face, his mood clearly matched it. Loki’s scowl made him look even younger and Thor felt a sharp flare of responsibility. He was the elder; it was his duty to look after Loki and defend their farm and somehow take care of everything while their mother was away. The thought made him feel terribly young himself.

“Take off your other shoe,” Thor said.

“Well, I wasn't planning to sit here with one on,” Loki snapped.

Thor went out to draw a bucket of water (“Oh, get away,” he said irritably, waving his hammer as Door-Slammer crept close) and put it over the fire to warm. Once the temperature felt pleasant he set it before a chair and, ignoring Loki’s protests, picked him up and carried him to it. “Maybe they’ll feel a little better after they've soaked,” he said.

Loki heaved a sigh as he set his sore feet in the water. It did help, and quickly; Thor could tell by how Loki’s expression shifted from one of annoyance to one of pleasure at the sight of Thor doing all the work.

After they had eaten, Thor carried down their blankets and pillows to make them a bed before the fire.

It was very agreeable, he decided, the two of them curling up there with no need to rise, no need to do anything but stay awake just long enough for Kisulóra to finish her meal. And then to wake and chase away Door-Slammer, of course, but even that occurred less often with them downstairs and better positioned to retaliate.

*

“How are your feet?” Thor asked in the morning.

“Much better. They don’t hurt at all,” Loki answered, sounding surprised.

Thor’s relief lasted right up until Loki tried to stand. He knew his brother was growing weary of dealing with the trolls, but his gasp of shock as his weight settled onto his foot was clearly unfeigned.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get the goats in, and put all the food in one corner, and you’ll soak your feet and use your slingshot down here while I protect the sausages.”

Thor filled their askurs to the brim, stew in the bottom, hunks of sausage atop that, and porridge atop it all. “Breakfast first, then lunch,” he said when he saw Loki watching curiously. “I don’t think we’re getting lunch today if we don’t eat it now.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

It was difficult to make himself eat so much at once, and he took far longer than he meant to, especially as it felt so good to be cuddled next to his lazy brother as they ate. It meant that he left himself with far too little time to get the goats into the house before the day-trolls appeared.

“I think we need a bribe,” Thor said when he returned to the house with the milk pail.

“Hay won’t work. I tried that last time. They want it, but not enough to be lured indoors.”

Thor looked around. “My first few laufabrauð turned out kind of ugly,” he admitted. “I bet the goats would love it. Do you promise not to tell?”

“I promise.”

He was right to try bribery. There was no way anything else would have worked even half as well. All six of them moved as one, following him up the path, snatching at each little bite of bread he offered. Once he had them safely in the house he set about getting Loki comfortable for the day. He put a chair in the corner nearest the fire and a pillow on the seat before gathering Loki in his arms to save him the walking.

"I'm not an invalid," Loki fussed as Thor tucked a blanket around him.

"Do you want to take care of this stuff yourself?"

"No."

"Uh-huh. Okay, you've got your slingshot, your bag of pebbles, and a jug of water. Is there anything else you need before I go up?"

Loki shook his head. "Talk to me some to keep me awake. Don't let him eat my share of the sausages."

"I'm not going to let him eat _anyone's_ sausages. I'm sick of these trolls and they're not getting away with anything else."

*

Until today Thor had never before been properly grateful for how briefly the sun appeared over the horizon in winter. Now he saw how very much he'd taken it all for granted. Sausage-Swiper was the last of the day-trolls to creep away, and by the time he was dropping from the lowest rafter to scurry to the door, running in crazed lines to dodge Loki's attack, Thor had never had to pee so badly in all his life. Loki was already on his feet, whimpering as he hobbled towards the door.

"Never, ever tell," Thor cautioned as they relieved themselves against the side of the house where it was strictly forbidden.

"Ooo, Thor. That's two naughty things you've done just today. I must be rubbing off on you."

"I think you are," Thor said, following Loki back inside. "In fact, I think maybe you should rub off on me right now."

"I could not possibly agree more," Loki yawned.

As one they sank to the floor before the fire, kneeling on the pile of blankets, ignoring their rumbling stomachs in the urge to satisfy a more demanding hunger. Shoes were tugged off, clothes were shed, hands and mouths went everywhere. They were finally going to Do It...

And they would have, too, if they hadn't looked up to find a troll watching them through the window and _drooling_.


	12. Gáttaþefura

It did help some to realize that the troll wasn't actually trying to spy on them. It didn't help _much,_ but it helped some. 

"It's just looking for things to steal. Just ignore it," Thor said. "I'll deal with it if it comes inside." 

"I can't ignore it. It's way too creepy. I'm sorry. I _want_ to, it's just..." 

"Don't worry. I understand." Thor stood up and bent over to press a sweet kiss to Loki's forehead before he picked up one of the sheets from their messy pile of bedding and strode over to the window. His dick was really hard and sticking up and it bounced when he walked, and Loki wasn't entirely sure if it was hot or hilarious. Some of both, he decided. 

Loki gasped when he saw Thor pick up some nails. "Mother will kill you if you put holes in one of her sheets," he said. 

"I don't care. I've wanted you for a year now, ten nights ago I learned that you wanted me, and we still haven't done it because of these stupid trolls, and I don't care anymore. She can kill me when she gets back. At least I'll go happy." 

Thor raised the sheet up to the window frame, blocking the view of the troll, who was still busy casting his eyes about their little house, taking in which goods he liked best, drooling, drooling. The last thing the troll saw got to see was a really good view of Thor's dick and Loki made a mental note to hit the troll with an extra sharp rock tomorrow, just out of revenge for getting a good view while Loki – through no fault of his own, thank you very much – only got to see part of the side. 

"Thor?" said Loki. 

"Yes, Loki?" 

"Come back. I want your dick." 

"Okay." 

Loki held up the covers for Thor to slip beneath. His skin had taken on a chill just in that little span of time and Loki set to warming him up, rubbing his hands over every part to stir up his blood. 

Mostly one part. 

Thor was stroking Loki's cock too, and he hovered above him, boxing him in so gloriously it was like the rest of the world didn't exist. It all felt so good that they found themselves able to ignore the slamming of the door, the bursts of cold air that kept washing over their faces. Their bodies moved together, impossible to hold still when _everything_ felt so good. Thor’s hand felt just as big as the rest of him, each pass making the tension in Loki's belly tighten up a little more, and his lips were so hot on Loki's, kissing, kissing, kisses so sweet Loki could have died- 

The snowball hit Thor in the face and shattered, raining down all over Loki’s head. 

Thor reared up. “ _What_?” he roared. Loki spluttered and wiped the freezing melt off himself with a blanket before twisting to see what had happened. 

It seemed that Door-Slammer did not like to be ignored. He was standing in the open doorway, leering at them and packing another snowball as Thor struggled his way free from their covers. He picked up his hammer and was halfway to the door when the next snowball came flying. 

It crashed right into the middle of Thor’s face, forcing him to draw up short in surprise, and by the time he had recovered, the troll had fled. 

Loki rose and dried Thor’s face. Thor looked towards the fire. "She's done eating. Up to bed," he ordered, pushing Loki towards the ladder without ceremony. 

"But the blankets-" 

"I'll bring them. Just go." 

Loki probably would have taken exception to Thor's tone were he not equally desperate. As it was, he simply did as he was told, climbing easily with a candle in one hand. He was halfway up when he felt the shift that said Thor was climbing up after him. He reached the top and had one foot on the floor when it hit him. 

"Augh! Thor, I think something died up here." 

"What? No, that's impossib-oh. It can't have happened very long ago. We better deal with it before it gets worse." 

"I think I'm going to be sick." 

"Breathe through your mouth," Thor told him. 

Thor draped the bedclothes over the rail and they got down on their hands and knees to find the source of the smell. 

They found it. Bowl-Licker was passed out under their bed, an empty bottle still clutched in one warty hand. 

"I'm going back down. I can't take this," Loki said. Thor nodded and tucked their blankets under one arm to follow him. 

Loki was halfway down the ladder when a snowball hit him in the ass. 

There was nothing they could do, really, but fetch the old sheepskin rug and put it on top of the blankets, pull everything over their heads and try to ignore the rest of the world. Between the thumps of snowballs landing atop them, the door slamming in between, and the lingering nausea from the fumes emanating from the drunken troll, it was a tall order. They clung to one another and whimpered and swore themselves to sleep. 

It was in the middle of the night when Loki swam lazily towards consciousness. He became aware of two things, one after the other: first, he heard a strange noise, like sniffing, and, two, he opened his eyes to realize that he was staring straight up into two giant nostrils. 

He froze, praying to all the gods he'd ever heard of, even just once, that that giant booger would not drip until after the troll moved away. He didn't even let himself breath... not until the foul creature moved on. On towards the cupboard where they had stored the laufabraud. 

Thor was still asleep, snoring gently every third or fourth time he exhaled. Sweet and peaceful, just the way Loki had been until he woke to _that._

Loki reached for his slingshot, his hand drawn to it by instinct. He loaded it by feel, putting in a particularly satisfying rock from his bag, and held his peace, waiting as the troll opened the cupboard above the bread, then the one below, then to the left, and to the right, until at last, just as it thought it had found itself a nice tall stack of bread with no obstacle at all... 

…. _thwap!_ went the stone against the troll's lumpen, warty head. It whirled about, rubbing at the sore spot, to find Loki sitting up, grinning, and already reloaded. 


	13. Ketkrókur

Thor woke up that morning aware of three things: that he was exhausted; that he was horny; and that he was incredibly, irredeemably, pissed off at the stupid trolls that seemed determined to ruin his life. It took another few seconds to realize that the blanket was over his head, and a few seconds more to remember why. A shock of cold hit him in the face as Loki sat up, his rising torso shoving the covers down to their waists. He blinked against the harsh morning light and cleared his eyes just in time to see Loki send a pebble flying across the room. 

"It's an early riser, this one," Loki said. His eyes were narrowed, his chin set in a way that promised the troll – for so Thor saw it was as it scurried past them towards the door – was to meet all his considerable stubbornness. 

Thor sat up with a sigh. "Do you want to handle the goats or breakfast?" 

"Breakfast." 

"Okay." 

"I'm going to put some rocks under the bed, too. I can't stand the thought of that _thing_ under our bed another night." 

They dressed as quickly as they could, shivering in the morning chill. Thor filled his pockets with ugly laufabraud and went out to the barn. Gully-Gawker was already peering over the stone rim so he skipped the mucking – at worst, that could be done after dark – and put the milk pail over one elbow, tucked a pile of hay beneath that arm, and tried to lure the goats to the house with offerings of crisp fried bread in the hand of the other. 

He got them as far as the pasture and no farther. No amount of hay, no amount of bread, would make them budge. Instead they simply danced about with imploring eyes until with a deep sigh, Thor sat down on the rocky frozen ground to relieve them of their milk. 

"Loki!" he called as he finished with Inge, the last to be tended. 

Loki's head popped out the door. "Yes?" 

"They won't come. They insist on being out of doors." 

There was a long pause before Loki answered. "I'll eat and then bring the things to the barn." 

Perhaps ten minutes later he appeared, carrying a stack of pots and spoons and skyr vat and laufabraud box, his load almost larger than he was himself. These he took to the barn before meeting Thor on the trail to receive the milk pail. They stole a swift kiss and parted ways. 

Thor had time to eat half his breakfast before he was swinging himself up into the rafters and chasing after Sausage-Swiper. He did feel somewhat guilty at leaving Loki with so much of the work, but he reminded himself, as he ate a sausage, how very much his brother loved them. That led, naturally, to thoughts of them loving each other's sausages, and wondering if such a thing would ever truly come about. 

The morning passed in a sort of haze, brought about as much by the repetitive actions as by his exhaustion. New rafter, swing the hammer, new rafter, swing the hammer, new rafter, swing the hammer... 

He was started from his reverie by a rough scratching sound. He looked around the cottage, frantic, and it wasn't until the third time he looked at the fireplace that he even saw it: a narrow metal hook darting down from the chimney, grabbing for the small roast that was cooking for their dinner. 

"Loki! _Loki!_ I need help!" he shouted. There were far too many sausages to leave them, so he could do nothing but watch and yell as a terrible hopelessness surged through him. 

With a blaze of sunlight the door swung open, the entrance so dramatic that Thor was sure when he had blinked his eyes clear of the brightness he would find Loki standing there looking like a hero of old. What he found instead was a boy who had not yet grown into his height or his feet and was staring up at him crossly. 

"What is it?" Loki demanded. 

"The fireplace! Look to the fireplace!" 

At first nothing seemed untoward. Loki crept closer, closer, and was just crouching down to peer up inside when a hook shot down and began to scrabble at the small roast that was to be their dinner. 

"Our roast!" 

"I know! That's why I called you!" 

Loki picked up the poker and began to jab it up into the chimney. "Wouldn't it have been more useful to say, 'our roast,' instead of, 'the fireplace?'" 

"Do you really want to argue this right now?" 

" **No,** I **don't** , because I've got **too much** to **do** ," Loki answered, emphasizing his words with more jabs of the poker. 

Their mother was so much better at dealing with him when he got in these moods; Thor usually just pulled on his hat and went to the pasture or the barn to visit the goats until she had worked her magic. Thor tried to think what she would do. "Of course you do. Tomorrow we'll figure out how to put some of the foods up here to make it more fair." 

Thor watched as the bubble of foul-temper around his brother simply... _burst_ , and then he looked so tired as to be near tears. "Okay," Loki said. "I can't reach it with the poker. I'll take the roast outside and make a campfire at the edge of the pasture." 

"Thank you." 

Loki nodded and straightened up, hefting the pot with a thick holder, and he was gone. 

The afternoon went by in the same delirium. The cottage was half-dark inside when Sausage-Swiper slipped away, dropping easily from the rafters to the floor and then outside before Thor could even reach the ladder. 

He went out and helped Loki carry in their stores. 


	14. Kertasníkir

Loki woke to find his face buried in Thor's warm chest, his brother's protective arms holding him close. He didn't remember falling asleep. He didn't even remember getting in bed. He must have stirred or changed his breathing because after a moment Thor spoke, his voice rumbling in his chest.

"You must be hungry."

"I'm always hungry."

"I know, but you must be extra hungry this morning. You fell asleep while I was filling our askurs. I turned around and you were folded over the table. You didn't even put your arms up to rest your head, you were face down on the wood. You're lucky your nose straightened back out overnight." Thor reached down and gave it a playful tweak, like he used to back when they were little. When they were the best of friends. Loki snapped back, just as playful.

"I think maybe you're right. I _am_ extra hungry."

Loki fixed a particularly large breakfast while Thor busied himself carrying the various pots and boxes of bread up into the rafters. They finished eating just minutes before the trolls began to creep inside, appearing where a moment before there had been only shadow.

"They're helpless!" Thor said triumphantly from his perch. "You just see to the goats and today will be a breeze."

It really looked like he was going to be right. The goats barely made any fuss as they waited to be milked and when they were all done they followed him most agreeably into the cottage with nothing but a few crumbs of laufabraud sacrificed to them.

Loki put the milk pail in the corner and sat down before the fire, ready to enjoy a day in which he had to deal with none but the Clod and Gully-Gawker. He laughed to himself as he thought back to when they felt overwhelmed by dealing with two trolls. Now that seemed like nothing.

And nothing it might have been, were Sausage-Swiper not so _community-minded._ Each time a troll came inside, the foul thing in the rafters would attempt to make his way to where Thor had safely put it away, so that he might throw it down to his fellow.

"Thor! He's going for the skyr!"

"Yes, I know," Thor answered tersely. "I'm heading him off."

Loki gave a hysterical shriek. "The crust! Don't let him reach the crust!"

Thor managed to intercept him nineteen times out of twenty. That was more than enough failures to make Loki spend his day darting about the open room, kicking whatever troll was nearly as he stretched his hands up to catch whatever came tumbling down.

The pot with its sweet crust he saved, and the box of laufabrauð and the tasty lickable spoons. He would have saved the pot of leftovers but Skyr-Swiper stuck out his foot and tripped him as he dashed forwards. The loss wouldn't have been quite so bad had they not previously agreed to go without a roast for their dinner, to save the bother of fighting with Meat-Hook over it. Even then they might have filled themselves with skyr had the vat not tilted as it fell, so that instead of getting to eat it, Loki had to wear it. It was sour and clammy and he had to endure it clinging to him for three full hours.

The moment dusk fell and took the day-trolls away, he was busy heating a pot of water to wash himself. It wasn't like they needed the fire for anything else, after all.

"I'm so hungry," Loki moaned.

"Drink some milk."

"I did. That's not enough." He knew it was his empty stomach making him peevish, but with no way to fill it the knowledge was of little use.

"I'll make some porridge," Thor offered.

"I hate porridge for dinner."

"I know."

They ate in silence. The plain food, so good first thing in the day, lacked savor for the evening, so that even with his belly filled his mood was no better.

Loki picked at the pot crust, glad he'd been able to at least save that. "Tomorrow's Christmas. Mother promised to be back."

"I wonder what she will bring you? The shirt you got last year was wonderful, the color made your eyes so bright."

"I can't believe I outgrew it so fast," Loki sighed. "But that's not my point."

"Oh. You mean privacy."

"Yes. I do mean privacy."

"We'll figure out something, I promise." So confident. So sure of himself. So... so _Thor._ So totally, obnoxiously Thor. 

Loki gave a snort. "Like I should trust that?"

Thor drew back. "What? What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Thor, you called me a _troll_ and I know you were hurt when you did it but how do you think I feel? You've hurt me just as much and I held my tongue."

"For once," Thor muttered.

Loki froze. "For once?"

"You can never be quiet, you can never let things go. Just like with this. You _always_ have to have the last word."

"That's not true." Loki stood up, draped the heaviest blanket over his arm and lit a tallow candle in the fire. "Sleep down here tonight. I don't want to be near you."

He could feel Thor's eyes on his back. "Loki-"

"I said no, Thor."

"I know. I'm just showing how you can't let me have the last word."

"You get it all the time."

"See?"

Loki started up the ladder. "I'm going to bed now."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Loki answered, because it was bad luck not to.

"Sleep well," Thor said.

Loki's eyes narrowed. _**I** have to have the last word, my ass,_ he thought. He said nothing. That would show him.

He climbed from the ladder to the attic room and was halfway to the bed when a gust of foul breath put out his candle and before he even had time to whirl about, the weight in his hand lightened.

Behind him stood a grinning troll licking his lips, and where a tall taper had been he now held nothing but a little stub. "Aaaaugh! Get out, out!" He yelled, kicking the troll's legs. It leered at him and scurried down the ladder.

"See? Last word," Thor called up.

Loki nestled into his cold and lonely bed and wished he had never spoken at all.


	15. Gryla and Jólakötturinn

Frigga woke to a vague gray light and climbed down from the haymow where she had spent the night. She peeked out the barn door to find that it was the break of dawn that had woken her. The house chimney was beginning to smoke, testimony to at least one early riser among this family that had agreed to shelter her for the night. They had been kind, offered her the place before the fire, but she had politely declined in favor of the rougher bed. Now she slipped outside, securely fixing the door to keep the sheep inside, and made her way towards the hills before they could come out and invite her to break her fast with them. They were kind enough that they would do it, and it would be too impolite to refuse, and then she would be intruding on a family's Christmas morning and all the time wishing she were on her way home. It was the way of this rough country, for all the self-sufficiency of the people who lived hereabouts; no matter how little one had, it was to be shared with a traveler for who knew when one might be traveling in turn? But now she simply wanted to be with her sons.

Her pockets were stuffed with wrinkled apples, their surfaces like the faces of wind-worn elders. She ate one after another as she walked, chewing quickly to get them over with that she might cover her lips against the wind all the sooner.

It was her third day of walking and she sped her pace as she watched the sun move too quickly across the sky. She had to be home before nightfall with new clothes – two poorly-knit scarves, the smallest and cheapest things she could find to buy – to protect her boys.

It was dusk when she trudged up the steep gully east of the farm and as she reached the top she seemed to see all things at once: the goats were not in their pen, where they belonged this time of day, and on the western ridge, silhouetted against the rust-blood sky, prowled a tall gaunt troll-woman and a cat as tall as the cottage. The only thing that kept her heart from freezing with terror was that the chimney was smoking merrily away.

Her legs ached so much that she could barely walk. She took one look at the menacing figures and ran.

The lowering shadows made it impossible to see the cottage door until she was nearly within reach of the handle; so it was that she nearly crashed right into a stinking troll. He was warty and had a rope of drool hanging from his lip and he was about to go into her house. She drew herself up and as she spoke she pulled her heavy knife from its sleeve-sheath.

"I suppose you enjoy frightening children? How shall you fare against a grown woman?"

He gave an alarmingly loud snort of terror and ran towards the high ridge as fast as his stiff legs would carry him.

She stood, arms crossed, upon her doorstep, facing the approaching danger, defying it.

She would have stayed longer but for the burst of shouting from within.

"Just do it, you little brat," Thor yelled.

"I've had way more work than you for days now and you know it! I hate you, Thor!" Loki screamed back.

She flung open the door. " _Loki!"_ she gasped, blinking against the bright light as she surveyed the inside of what was once her neat little house. There was a goat chewing placidly upon the tablecloth, another standing at the window eating a- "Is that my bedsheet?"

He didn't even look up. "Yes."

She strode over and took his arm. "You apologize to Thor this instant," she ordered.

"Two instants, that's my poking arm," he said as he jerked away.

"You know better than to use the fire poker that way. That's how Thor's father lost his eye. And where _is_ Thor?”

A voice came down from above. "Hello, mother!"

She looked up. "Thor?" Her elder son was perched in the beams high overhead, swinging his feet and grinning down at her.

"Yes?"

"Explanation. Now."

"I'm just on my way down. I think Loki's taking care of the last of them," Thor answered, crawling towards the ladder. A moment later he was rushing down and a troll went squealing and rubbing its head in a race for the door.

Her sons came to stand before her. "Thor said the word!" Loki blurted before Thor could speak. "He called me one and now they're here trying to eat all our food and keep us awake all night and scare the goats and look for things to steal."

“Manners first,” she told them.

“Loki, I apologize for calling you names,” Thor said.

“I’m sorry I said I hate you. Even though this is all your fault.”

“That's better," she told them. "Thor has apologized for summoning them and I know he really is very sorry so now we must deal with it. I’ve gotten rid of the Clod for good, that’s a start.”

They looked at each other, eyes wide as askur lids. “You know the Clod?” they breathed as one.

“Later. Tell me everything that has happened, and quickly.”

They launched into their tale, their voices growing high with excitement. Perhaps were one of them deeper, the low rumbling of footsteps would have been lost.

Loki's eyes grew wide with sudden fear. “What’s that outside, mother?” he asked, his sweet voice trembling.

“Just finish telling me, hurry.”

“-and so Loki called down to me that I needed to hide the candles before more got eaten so I wrapped them all up in a blanket and slept with my hand upon it. Mother, we tried so hard, but we lost at least twelve sausages and a vat of skyr and a whole candle, a new one. We tried so hard and it just wasn’t good enough…”

The floor shook as Gryla and the cat began to circle the cottage, looking for a way in. _Thud, thud, thud,_ it went, and though her sons were now taller than she, they still looked up to her in terror.

“You’ve both done your very best. I’m so proud of you. You protected our home and our food and the goats and no one could ask for more. You are both very good boys.”

Her last words bore the dulcet sound of truth, their purity unbearable to the mother troll, and no sooner had she finished speaking than the night was broken by Gryla’s scream of anger. The shaking of the cottage diminished, leaving only the near-silent, near-smooth footfalls of Jólakötturinn.

“Mother? What’s going on?” Thor asked. He was turning in circles, his eyes tracing the cat’s progression as though he could see through the walls.

“It’s time for Christmas gifts,” she answered.

“Now?” Loki asked. He tried to make it sound like a demand but his voice cracked in the middle which rather ruined his intended effect. Were the situation not so dire she would have had to stifle a laugh.

“Now,” she said firmly. She opened up the bag that still hung over her shoulder and reached inside, trying to hide the shaking in her hands. If these didn't count as new clothes when the cat drew near enough to smell for them... She would fight to the death to protect her children, but against a creature the size of their home it would be death that resulted.

The madder-dyed scarf was on top. “Thor, red for you,” she said, drawing it out and wrapping it around his neck. “And Loki, for you I found one dyed with moss.” Over his shoulders it went.

The hushed padding came to a stop at the door. All was silence and then there was the sound of sniffing _\- whuff, whuff -_ and she wrapped her arms around their chests, drawing them tight against her as they stood facing the door. Time froze as the cat sniffed and sniffed... and then it gave an enraged howl and was gone from their home.

“We’re safe?” Thor whispered.

She nodded. “We’re safe.”

Both sons turned and threw their arms about her and she held them close, feeling their quiet tremblings ease into peace.

Once their fear was gone the days of exhaustion caught up with them so that they nearly fell asleep face-down in their dinners, and likely would have done so were the door not slamming every few minutes. As soon as their food was eaten she pulled out her long knife and spoke once more. “Go to bed. I will stay downstairs and see your rest is unbroken.”


	16. Alone, for Real This Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second of two chapters posted today - if you jumped to here, go back up! 
> 
> Happy Holidays!

Thor gave a loud yawn. "Thank you, mother. It is good to have you home."

"Very good," Loki agreed. He stood up and kissed her cheek. "I would wish you a good night, but..."

It was good to have her laughter filling their home once again. "I understand. Go on up, you two. Sleep well."

Thor followed Loki after kissing her other cheek.

When Thor reached the top of the ladder Loki's face was stricken. "I don't think I can... oh, Thor, this is our chance, and I'm so tired I barely made it up without falling."

Thor embraced him, soft hushes lost in Loki's hair. "Don't fret yourself, little brother, for I am in no better state than you." It was true, and just for now, it felt good enough just to snuggle up against the his _safe, living brother_ and give way to dreams.

It also felt good to wake before dawn and feel his brother's body stirring into wakefulness beside him. "Morning," Loki mumbled.

"Morning," Thor answered. He wrapped his arm around Loki's waist and pulled him closer, his back firm and warm against Thor's chest, his rear just as warm but soft against his-

"Oooo, all ready for me," Loki said, wiggling delightfully against him.

Thor slid his hand downwards, smiling at the last traces of puppy fat on Loki's gangly body, to find that Loki was ready for him, as well. His nightclothes did nothing to dim the heat of his cock and Thor groaned at the feel of it. He was about to reach inside to caress it skin-to-skin when Loki rolled over to face him, so near they were breathing from each other's lungs. He wondered when Loki's lashes had gotten so long.

Perhaps it was the traces of sleep yet lingering in their bed, for after all their waiting, after all their eagerness, they still found a way to go slowly.

"I'm sorry I said I hate you," Loki told him between whisper-light kisses. "I didn't mean it."

"And I'm sorry for calling you a – what I called you. I meant it, but only because I didn't understand."

"Shhh. I know."

They had to stop kissing just long enough to pull off their light sleeping tunics, unwilling to leave anything between them. Loki's skin was so soft, still almost as soft as the day their mother had taken Thor's finger and stroked it carefully across his tiny brother's cheek and told him _you're a big brother now, it is your job to help guide him_. "I love you, Ki," he whispered.

"I love you, Tor."

Loki's rump was pert beneath Thor's hand as he slid away the sleeping pants that had once been his own, back when he was smaller. Loki tugged at Thor's until he raised his hips and let them be pulled away, and then they were pressed together once again, cocks digging into each other's bellies, smearing their skin, hips rocking together.

 

It was lovely. Lovely, that desperate, choked noise Loki made when he crawled onto Thor, the soft and breathy sounds, almost like questions, _mmm? mmm?_ with each roll of their hips. Thor had been about to reach between them but now he paused to revel in his brother's weight upon him. Loki weighed more than he looked and Thor was glad of it, glad to know he was not so vulnerable to the hunger that always threatened this craggy land. Instead of reaching for their cocks his hands went to Loki's waist, feeling the gentle swell of hip below, the bolder spread of ribs above, before returning to rest in the warm narrow curve. Lovely the sweetness that lingered on Loki's lips, the apples on his breath as his panting grew, the sugar on his tongue as he leaned down for desperate kisses.

"Say it again. Tor, say it," Loki pleaded.

"I love you, Ki."

Lovely, how Loki sobbed with longing, and lovelier still the low _yes_ he hissed when Thor finally began to stroke their cocks together with his broad hand. The other slid around to spread his fingers wide over Loki's rear, taking in the tense and shift of muscles behind each eager thrust.

Those earlier nights when they had gotten to kiss and touch had been illuminated, the warm fire downstairs covering everything it touched with an incandescent glow, the bountiful moonlight filling the attic room with a crystalline sheen. Now the moon was nearly new and they guided themselves with touch and sound and scent and yet when his pleasure came Thor was sure he saw the sky.

It was awkward. Awkward, all those smushed noses and clashing teeth, _terribly_ awkward when at one point Loki's pointy elbow accidentally went somewhere best not mentioned. The hushed scrabble while Loki felt around in the dark for something to clean up while their mingled spend grew cold on Thor's stomach. Awkward because it was all so new and _real_ , every off-center kiss and every whispered apology proof that this was no dream, and neither of them minding any of it because it meant only that they had so much promise before them.

"I love you," Loki whispered when his face was buried in Thor's warm chest.

It was exactly as Thor had hoped.


	17. Happy Ever After

They lay twined together, lazy and content, until their mother called up that it was time to begin the day. They left their bed with kisses and reluctance.

"Good morning, mother," Loki said as he climbed down the ladder.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" she asked.

He nodded. "I'd forgotten how good it felt to sleep through the night. I didn't hear a single slam."

"You were tired. There were three. I stayed at the door most of the night but had to get some rest near the end."

"Three's not bad," Thor said, following Loki down.

"Now one of you go on out and see to the goats. The Clod is gone, so you can let them have their full pasture again. I'll take the barn today, I want you staying in the warmth after how exhausted you've been. I don't want you getting sick."

"I'll do the mucking," Thor told Loki.

Loki smiled at him. "I'll do the hay and milking."

They were still pleasantly sated and so did not mind that the cold dawn air prohibited anything beyond sweet smiles cast across the barn.

*

After their earlier attempt, they knew better than to put anything up the rafters, but even with several trolls to counter, Loki got a few chances to climb the ladder and steal a quick kiss before duty called them back. With dusk came their mother, sheathing her knife and telling them that Gully-Gawker would not be bothering them again.

The thought struck them both at once.

"But how do you know their names?" Thor demanded.

She gave them a serene smile and said nothing.

*

More trolls left over the following days. After that first night, their mother had them take turns at guarding the door all night and sleeping all day, so that they had no more chances to be alone together for nearly a week, and when they did, it was because she had lost her temper and charged Door-Slammer with her blade and a shout that he was to bother her sons no longer. It meant they were once again spending the nights in bed together and _sleeping_ , but as she was in her bed as well, they were limited to silent kisses and sweet embraces... until the morning they woke up to find the room with almost no chill at all.

The Mörsugur thaw had come early.

There were still a few trolls creeping about the little cottage, but as the laufabrauð was all eaten, there was no roast over the fire, and Candle-Stealer did not come until dark, they had only one job for the morning.

"Let's go to the barn right away, Thor!" Loki said the moment he finished his porridge.

Their mother raised an eyebrow. "You're not usually so eager to attend to your chores," she said mildly.

"I think we've both really learned a lot of responsibility in the past few weeks," Thor interjected.

"Yes. Exactly. Thank you, Thor."

"Improved manners, too," she noted.

"Thank you, mother," they said. Politely.

"Go on, then. Go see to your _responsibilities_."

"What did she mean by that?" Loki hissed the moment the door closed. "Why'd she say it that way?"

"Do you think...?"

"She can't know. Can she?"

"Of course not. There's no way."

"I hope you're right," Loki said.

"Of course I am. Best not to even think of it. Especially not when we have better things to think of," Thor said as he drew the barn door shut.

"You're right."

"Of course I am. I guess we better do our chores first," Thor concluded, reluctantly.

"Mmm. Just a minute. This first," Loki said, twining his arms around Thor's neck and stretching up for a kiss.

The air was warm enough they hadn't needed to button their coats and Thor slid his hands inside, wrapping around Loki's waist and pulling him close.

"You taste like sugar," Thor whispered.

Loki's right arm dropped from its high perch and he reached between them, slithering his hand between tight-pressed bodies to find the lump in Thor's pants. He gave it a light squeeze and Thor groaned. Only a few strokes had it fully hard and Thor's breaths racing.

"Thor..."

"Yes, Loki?"

"I call dibs on milking."

It got his ass a sharp pinch but it was worth it to see the struggle on Thor's face between the knowledge of what he _should_ do and what he wanted to do. What Loki had _made_ him want to do, Loki thought, and wasn't that one of the most exciting things there could be.

They raced through their chores, Thor's powerful arms swift with fork and shovel, Loki's eyes on him every possible second. When they were done they climbed up to the haymow.

The air was still chilly, so that they were forced to remain more clothed than he would have liked, but this time they could see and that was a lot. It was Loki on his back this time, his tunic shoved up and trousers opened while Thor was above him on hands and knees, head hanging and his breath in rough stuttering gasps as Loki frantically worked their cocks. He would have liked to do them one at a time, especially now that he could see, but that would have to wait until they had more time. And the sight of Thor's face taut with pleasure was enough for now.

Cuddles would have to wait for bedtime but even with the flurry of activity afterwards – tidying up with the clean rag that magically appeared from Thor's pocket, adjusting their clothes to look they hadn't been opened – Loki found himself smiling helplessly, the glow in his chest warm as candlelight. From the look on Thor's face, he felt the same.

For a long time Loki worried what would happen when those candles burned out, but they never did.


End file.
